Reviews Coming Soon

Friday, December 18, 2015

Upon forming, back in 2010, Winnipeg’s Wilt’s original intention was
to create a black metal studio-only project. Since, the duo of guitarist
Brett Goodchild and vocalist Jordan Dorge have assembled a full lineup
and have started hitting the festival circuit with a bit of success.
Now, for this, their debut long-player, the quintet bring us four
snaking tracks of blackened doom filled with buckets of blast beats,
swathes of dissonance, extended chord couplets and the standard fayre of
screeching, drone-tastic, monochromatic, acid-gargling vocals direct
from the colourless lips of the undead themselves.

What hits you hardest of all, besides Dorge’s toasted throat, is the
lack of warmth or colour in their music. It’s to be expected considering
the subject matter offers “a unique glimpse into the human condition,
for all its faults, heartbreak and despair” but it is no less of a shock
to find it so brutally emotionless in the way in which it dissects the
insidious disease within.

Right from the off, they fire up the slow, atmospheric doom machine.
When the freezing blasts of drum and screech eventually kick in they cut
through the fog like a shadowy, howling phantom. The downbeat tone and
dark portents hit home and the temperature plummets. Beware the tuneless
quality of “The Elder” – it is particularly nasty and relentlessly
unforgiving. You absolutely get the sense of the horror and of the soul
being torn asunder.

With each of the first three tracks cruising on past the 11-minute
mark, all the while hammering their mournful tune with the same
monochromatic attack and pitch, it really is heavy-going. The crumb of
comfort here is the variation of pace which allows for some particularly
neat shifts in vehemence. After 41 excruciating minutes it seems safe
to surmise that this really is a work bereft of joy.

With so little variation and such a harsh, caustic attack marrying
itself to the depressive tone, it’s not going to be everyone’s cup of
tea but, as they probably say in Canada, if you don’t like the cold, get
out of the fridge.

Blackened death with hints of post-metal, proto-punk, and occultism,
London’s Shrines are nothing if not inventive. Their combination of
emotion and rhythm paints a series of visceral sounds splattered with
bright phrasing. Raw and uncompromising it reeks of their lust,
self-loathing and comes loaded with the explosive aggression of their
inner punk.

The first run-through of this experimental debut will have you
scratching your head whilst marvelling at their adaptability. Allow the
collision of soft melodics and brutalistic rhythms to wash over you and
you’ll start to feel the dark concept begin to snag your mind. You’ll
suddenly feel like the essential cog in their machine; the key to
connecting the dots.

From the all-consuming introduction of rattling double-kick and
ritualistic chanting that encompasses “Ariadne’s Thread” through to the
otherwordly moaning and jagged rise-and-fall blitzkrieg that forms
“Truth”, this debut album is one wild rollercoaster ride of
genre-crossing that pitches and tosses you along whilst sneaking attacks
from every conceivable angle. The jagged rhythms, slo-mo chugs and
exploding cosmic experimentalism of tracks like “The Drowned” and
“Eternal Return” feel like some bizarre Vreid / Wolves In The Throne
Room / Mastodon musical collision.

In stark contrast, the majestic 6-minute centre-piece “Of The Wolf”
is the key to the piece. Working like a finger to the lips it is
dramatic, incisive and other-worldly. Inevitably it is the key that
opens the door into understanding the band and the album. Without it the
the thing wouldn’t have a mooring.
If drummer Daniel Blackmore is the tormenting villain of the piece
then vocalist Sam Loynes (Voices, ex-Ackercocke) is equally as divisve.
He switches between smooth melodics, antagonistic roars and pig squeals
with apparent ease. Check out “Multitude Of Sin” for his full range – it
is one track that really has fun bending genre boundaries. Staid,
dyed-in-the wool, anodyne? Shrines are not.

It does feel slightly dissolute as a complete work and tends to ties
itself in knots when simplicity is called for. However, when the
backline tightens up, it provides the perfect canvas for the musical
theatrics and vocal gymnastics to really make an impression.

Friday, December 4, 2015

Instrumental metal isn’t necessarily everyone’s cup of tea but it’s most
certainly a genre that lends itself to emotional abandonment. And with
post-metal burgeoning, it seems everyone’s at it these days. Another for
the melting pot, Greek three-piece Arrakis formed late in 2012 with the
intention of creating the ultimate stoner experience. None of these
messy lyricisms for them, just pure, pounding rhythms, heaps of
distortion and cyclical riffs into which the listener can blithely
stagger and drop out.

Recorded live in the studio, Ammu Dia shows promise but lacks punch.
Roughly produced, its consequently loaded with honesty and raw power,
yet is somewhat imbalanced and has plenty of niggling inaccuracies.
Thematically lacking also, the album relies all too often on mere
stringwork to discover the heart and soul of the tracks, rather than by
using layering and soundscaping to dig into the emotional bedrock. Bands
like Russian Circles or Red Sparowes are masters of both, whilst
Arrakis attempt to fuel a different fire. They are more about the riff
and the head-down groove. Only the final few tracks, and in particular,
both “Noema” and the 12 paper-thin minutes of “Diplomacy?” even attempt
to draw a little introspection from the listener.

With just the single lead guitar forging ahead to mingle with the
battering kit and gutsy bass there’s little room for string interplay
and, as a consequence, the big bloated monsters of one-dimensional
“Audium” and the anomalous “Aztec” create nothing but a swathe of flat
noise, losing what little craftwork there is in the muddy production and
heaving dissonance. One recognisable touchstone lurks as “Oppose” tips
its hat to the dark patterning and simplistic doom of both St. Vitus and
Black Sabbath.

As a jam in a live setting with their chords blasting through chests,
Arrakis have the tuneage to really make bonces bounce, but with so
little to offer in this crudely-produced recorded format they are
unfortunately just more of a racket.

My first taste of Australian progressive technicians Caligula’s Horse
comes as quite a shock. Having sampled the delights of Skyharbor & Alaya at recent UK TechFests and been blown away by each one’s
recorded output, I see it as an honour to seek out like-minded souls.
Yet here lying in my in-tray is a band that shares numerous similarities
with each of the aforementioned tunesmiths but, with two albums already
released, had not even grazed my radar.

Formed in 2011 in Brisbane by lead vocalist Jim Grey and guitarist Sam
Vallen, their previous releases include euphoric debut Moments From
Ephemeral City and 2013’s darker, more potent The Thief &
River’s End. The success of the latter led them to share stages with
acolytes Mastodon, Protest The Hero and The Ocean so can third album
Bloom live up to it’s stirring moniker?

Well, it certainly acts as the perfect vehicle for Grey’s elegant vocal.
It delicately introducing his softer side on the opening title-track
before providing a musical framework for it on the elegaic melodic
numbers like “Marigold” and “Daughter Of The Mountain”. The easy emotion
he elicits prompts the listener’s heart to soar, the soul to become
enveloped and the hairs to stand on end. Do also explore album-closer
“Undergrowth” for his full monstrous range. Think of Daniel Tompkins’
(TesseracT) unerring capacity to beguile and you’ll not be far off the
mark.

Deeper in there are big grooves, vast lyrical hooks and chorus-led
giants like “Firelight” and “Turntail”, echoing both Intervals’
effortless power and Skyharbor’s knack for creating living pieces. Then
come more malevolent hits such as “Dragonfly” and “Rust”, both riddled
with hate-fuelled lyricisms – “She smiles like an open grave” and “Fuck
your prayer for rain, pray for rust”.

Bloom certainly proves Caligula’s Horse are maturing nicely, varying
their repertoire well to include a little light and a little darkness;
all the while crafting music riddled with passion whilst keeping one eye
firmly on the scene around them. First impressions have left me
suitably impressed; now the band have swam into my field of vision, they
most certainly won’t be my last.